


Devil Before Time

by Anonymous



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Clay is King, Dream Team are Best Friends, Dreamlike States, George I’m sorry, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nick & George Second Hand Men, War and Fantasy, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After an unfortunate occurrence in the woods, George finds himself trapped in a dreamlike state, incapable of communicating with anyone except those of his past. He relives his life before meeting Clay and Nick, unfortunately falling into a rabbit hole of paranoia wandering how he let all of what he knew slip away so quickly.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27
Collections: Anonymous





	Devil Before Time

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST OF ALL. 
> 
> This fic will deal with mentions of past trauma, past murder and violence, and violence in the present. There will be fighting and injuries. Be aware for swearing and angst, it’ll be heavy but I promise all I write are bound to have happy endings to tag along for the ride!
> 
> SECONDLY.
> 
> This is pure fiction built off personas, for Clay/George and the sake of my mind and this insane idea I had, they will be implied in the fic. I love them deeply and I am more comfortable writing it as they stated they do not mind shipping or fanfics. So enjoy this :]!!!
> 
> THIRDLY.
> 
> Do NOT in anyway, shape, or form shove this fic in the faces of CC’s, I don’t want them seeing it and do not wish for any of them reading it. So please respect that!
> 
> LASTLY! 
> 
> Enjoy this fic, I use their real names as it’s simply easier for me to write about it like that. So I hope it isn’t too much of a bother. :] 
> 
> Feedback always appreciated! Enjoy!!

George gasps as he awakens from yet another nightmare that plagued his sleep. It had to have been the third one that night. The pictures and thoughts of Clay almost dying don’t go forgotten no matter how much he’s tried to rid of them. He pushes back his covers and looks across the room to where Nick is sleeping, his gentle snores emitting from him as he’s deep in slumber. George gets out of bed and quietly makes his way to the door. 

It opens with a creek, then he steps out, shutting it behind him. He tiptoes down the narrow hallway and openss the door to Clay’s room. The man is not there, and George noticed that his cloak was gone from the hook. 

He feels a slight pain in his chest, but closes the door and looks down the hallway again. Taking a deep breath, he rushed towards where he knew that Clay would be. 

The training room.

Clay had taken the responsibility to rebuild the kingdom back up and take charge as their leader after his parents death in a war years prior. Fortunately, after the bombings there had been not as many fatalities or injuries as they expected. He gained their trust and freed them from the fear they had almost gone into. 

It was a peaceful kingdom.

George goes down the steps, he hears the distinct sound of Clay fighting, grunts and huffs that echoed down the hallway. It was chilly down near the gym. 

He stops in front of the door, looking through the glass. Clay was punching a bag and wiping sweat every so often. He performed kicks and practiced his flips to be more precise. 

He finally pushes the door open and Clay halts, locking eyes with him. Clay flips the hair out of his eyes and offers a smile.

“Hey,” he says, “What are you doing awake?”

“Um, bad dream,” George thins his lips into a line and nods up at him, “Why are you awake?”

“Training,” he responded, “Do you wanna talk about it? Are they getting worse?”

“I don’t know the difference anymore,” George shrugs, he sits on the mat and sighs, “Same things every night. The bombs, the screaming… the cries… you— you almost um, you know—“

Clay pulls his gloves off and trudged over to his friend, sitting next to him, “You know, sometimes I get those dreams too. Except I can't move. It’s like I’m stuck in molasses and there’s nothing I can do to stop anything.”

George looks at him, and Clay continues, “And I still almost lose everyone. Except, I lose you too.”

He huffs, “It’s not every night though, so it’s fine. I calm myself down.”

The room falls into silence and George continues to stare at Clay, his eyes almost dazing out in the others. He gains his conscious back and looks away, “I don’t know. How to stop them. It’s every night, Clay, I can’t sleep. I can’t even eat sometimes, I feel disgusting. I think to myself,  _ why _ was I the one to live instead of all of the villagers that didn’t make it out alive?” George blinks back his tears, looking away, “I just.. think… that I should’ve tried harder to save them. But I didn’t, I was weak like I’ve always been.”

Clay states for a moment, taking in everything George had just said, he looks forwards like George and licks his lips, “I.. I don’t think you are thinking clearly, George, you’re not weak like you think you are nor are you not deserving of the life you’re living right now. You survived, you went through something that most people wouldn’t be able to handle and you pushed all the way through.”

“Sometimes it feels like I’m always three steps behind you and Nick, you guys trained years to be the warriors you are today,” George says, “I was sent to this place to die, I was so scared Clay. I was so fucking scared, I didn’t know where I was. I thought I was going to just die in an empty forest alone—“

“But you didn’t. You’re here now, George, what are you spewing? Do you need to see the doctor?” Clay cuts him off and grabs his hand, “You can’t blame yourself for anything, it wasn’t your fault. You are here and breathing because you’re a fighter, George. You did everything you could and that’s what matters.”

George stays quiet, then nods, “Right.”

Clay pats his thigh and squeezes it once before standing up, “Let’s get you to bed. You can sleep next to Nick, I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. I have a few things to get done before I go back to sleep.”

He pulls George up and flops an arm around his shoulder, looking down at him, “Let’s get out of here.”

Their walk is silent, Clay humming a tune to a village song that was performed a few nights ago. George ponders deeper into his thoughts as he walks through the empty halls. When they reach his shared room with Nick. He’s still fast asleep when he and Clay approach him.

But with a gentle touch he’s woken. Nick sleepily looks at the two of them, then to Clay who is giving him a certain look that George can’t make out. But wordlessly, Nick scoots over and offers the sheets to share with George. 

Clay motions for him to get in, then bids his good nights to the pair.

“Bad dreams again?” Nick mumbles tiredly, “Idiot. I told you to just wake me up if you needed to.”

“I don’t wanna bother you,” George whispers, “You’ve been through a lot too.”

“I don’t really get bad dreams, I just end up forgetting about them anyways,” Nick pulls George to spoon him and laughs a little, “This is like we’re little kids all over again. It’s like helping baby Georgie all over again.”

“I’m older than you,” George mumbles, sleepiness already taking over, “By like… four years..”

By the time he finishes his sentence, he’s fast asleep and Nick just sighs, “Even if you are, I still feel like we’re always taking care of you, but I don’t really mind.”

With that, he falls asleep too and fortunately, the rest of the night passes in a bliss. 

-

George awakens to a cold bed, he rubs his face and sits up, looking around the room to see if anyone is around. Unfortunately, there isn’t any sign of anyone else being in the room.

After dressing himself, he opens the door to the now brightly lit hallway and it’s bustling about with maids and other such people like their knights. George sees Clay standing at the balcony discussing with an older man, assumingly a towns person based on their clothing. He stands idly, watching as the man’s face crinkles with a smile and he shakes Clay’s hand accordingly, then turns to leave. The man bows his head at George as he’s escorted by guards to the lower portion of their castle.

“You’re awake,” Clay says, “How did you sleep?”

“Better… I guess,” George hums, “What was that about?”

“He was discussing training for his son to be a knight, I offered up a spot,” Clay smiles, “We could use a few more. Tommy will probably be training him.”

They walk closer to the edge of the balcony and look into the courtyard where they see Tommy and Tubbo tackling each other. Tubbo throws his head back in laughter and punches Tommy’s arm.

He looks up momentarily and waves widely at the two of them, to which they smile back.

“Clay,” George says, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Of?” 

“A lot of things, such as if we go under attack again,” George responds, “Will we be prepared?”

“Well I don’t see why we won’t, I mean the only neighboring kingdom is peaceful,” Clay shrugs, “Don’t worry too much about it, okay?” 

The horizon is curved, the earthly creatures roam beyond their walls and children are free to frolic as they please, as long as they’re back by dark. George crosses his arms and looks away from the fields, and back to Clay who stands tall watching his kingdom bustle and act so lively.

“I think you make a great king,” George says, “You’ve really outdone yourself making sure everyone is safe.”

“That’s what rulers are supposed to do,” Clay says, “Be good for the people and earn their trust to continue further.”

George nods, then turns around and heads towards the steps. A few children almost knock him off his feet along the way and servants veer around him and tidy up the castle. 

The courtyard is way more lively than it seems, tons of practicing knights take stand at the command of their advisor, children giggle and play tag, and many servants tend to the children and read to them as well. He sees Tommy hold something of Tubbo’s over his head and watches as he just goes higher in his toes whenever Tubbo is closer to getting it.

Outside the castle walls are bright and people laugh amongst themselves. They chat about trades and new items they’ve purchased, and George just pulls the hood of his cloak over his head and heads towards the exit of the kingdom’s walls. 

He’d just venture a bit. Maybe watch the stream or enjoy the fresh air. 

George brushes his hands against the tall grass and goes up the hill towards a bench. It’s been there for a while now, meant to relax or watch the sunset if they pleased. He looks around at the forest, watching small animals run around and play. It seemed nice to be so free, unlike him who felt a constant weight of shackles on his wrists and ankles. He often felt desperate for the need to be free of his nightmares and unpreventable poor health. 

It was a wonder if he’d ever truly feel okay, and not like his chest were to explode every second he exerts himself for longer than ten minutes. 

What catches his eye is a cat who hop out of the tall grass and stares at him. Curiously he stands up and leans his hands on his thighs to look at it better.

It’s a beautiful calico cat that had piercing blue eyes. George hummed to himself.

“What’s a cat like you doing out here all alone?” George smiles, then goes to pet it but it sprints away. He immediately chased after it, hopefully if he caught it he could bring it home and feed it. 

But eventually it led him into the forest and down a path he didn’t recognize.

“Kitty?” George called, “Of course. I lost it.” he turns to exit, but the path has miraculously disappeared or something of the sort.

He looked at his surroundings, not recognizing the area at all despite being through hell and back with Clay in them.

“What the hell?” George says to himself, he crosses his arms and looks up. The sky is gloomy, unlike how it’d been minutes ago. He had to be imagining things at this point.

“Hey,” a voice calls, “You!”

George snaps his head and notices a figure emerge from the bushes, he looks a little beaten up, but nonetheless still standing. 

“Do I know you?” George asks, “Do you need help?”

“I do actually,” he says, “You see, my kingdom has been going through dark times ya know? Sickness has taken a lot of our people.”

Sickness. George freezes at the thought and takes a step back, “With all due respect—“

“You’d help me, right?” he whispers, “I see it in your soul… a good natured heart, your aura is vibrant but something is weak about you…”

George stares at him with an unreadable expression, taking a step back and covering his mouth with the crook of his elbow, “I can’t be getting sick—“

“I just.. need your help!” he begs, “Come on, please I’m weak as is!”

He grabs George by the shoulders and brings him down to his knees, “You wanna pray to God?”

“”Wh-What?” George raised his voice slightly and tried to shrink away, but the other man only gripped tighter.

“God will be with your soul,” he whispers. George's vision fades to black and he only hears the soothing sounds of the man’s prayers.

When he awakens, he’s staring at the sunny sky of where he was before the forest. The distinct laughter of children fills the air, clogging his ears. His eyes burn from the sun and he sits up, pain shooting throughout his entire body. 

“Fuck, fuck,” George grips the bench and cries out, the pain is extrusiating as he tries to get himself up, but his body is so weak.

“Sir are you okay?” a little kid asks, and George winces at the sound.

“K-Kid,” George pants, “You know… palace… the king?”

“Yes sir I do!” he smiles sweetly, “Would you like me to get the King?”

“P-Please,” George whispers. 

He feels like he’s on fire, every part of his body is in flames and as he lays back down. He tries to focus on breathing the best he can. George had gone through some sort of heat stroke or fever dream. 

George cries again,  _ fuck.  _

Suddenly he hears his voice being yelled, and then there’s hands on him and his body is being lifted. He screams from the pain and stiffens.

“George it’s me! It’s me, calm down!” Clay says, trying his best to sooth his friend, “You’re burning up, what happened to you?”

He felt like he could speak. His throat was closed up and his heart was in his ears.

“You’ll be okay, I’m here,” Clay soothes, “It’s just another battle.”

—

The doctor sits back and sighs, “I can’t come to a conclusion to what he’s come down with. I’ve never seen this before.”

He refers to the makeshift burn marks all over this body, but none that are actually from anything that the doctor can pinpoint. His skin is pale and his veins are visible through the practically translucent skin. George has a high fever, is incapable of movement, and barely being able to speak.

“What do you mean, you’re a doctor, you’ve had a case close to this before,” Clay says, “You gotta help him, his immune system is weak, this can kill him!”

“Your Highness, I’ve done everything I can I don’t know what more I can do!” the doctor tries to calm the King down, holding a hand up, “The best we can do right now is wait it out.

Clay almost says something, but calms himself and looks back down at George. The sight is painful, the sweat soaked forehead and red marks all over his skin made his heart pang in hurt.

“Thank you.” Clay says quietly, “That’ll be all for now.”

The doctor is dismissed and Clay turns his head back to George and frowns. 

“What the hell happened to you?”

George’s peaceful state is something to pity. And Clay feels lost and confused almost, he had been perfectly fine the morning before he went out. So the idea of him collapsing suddenly, hurts, it hurts a lot.

The door opens and Nick rushes in, “What happened to him?”

“We don’t know, the doctor said he’s never seen anything like this before,” Clay responds. He stands up from the bed and crosses his arms. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t even know if it’s contagious.”

“We should probably let him rest, okay Clay?” Nick pats his shoulder and ushers him out the room, sparing one last look at George before closing the door.

/////

George awoke breathless in a purely white room, it looked almost like a void as there was no walls or furniture. It was purely blank and empty, except a tree that wasn’t too far away.

Curiosity got the best of him, especially since that was the only thing that he could see in the entire place. He walks over to it and touches it slightly. It ignites in a glowing golden light and a small opening appears.

As if tugged, George feels obligated to step through it. He can’t see anything, but if it’s anything that can help him he’s willing to take the risk.

The bright light burns his eyes as he falls into a field of grass, his hands ache as well as his legs, he wanders for a second to where he could be— the afterlife? George looks down, but… his hands remind him of a child’s. When he sits up, it’s then he realizes he’s back in England, specifically back to the field he ran to after his parents death. He could barely breathe, maybe he was getting sick. George looks behind him, seeing the grueling sky overcast the meadow.

And then a swords tip is pressed to his throat and he cringes, just like it had when he was a child. 

“You’re just like your parents, running away from problems they’ve caused, being a menace to the world,” the guard spits, “But now that they’re dead, you’re an orphan. And you know where the orphans go to die?”

“D-Die?” he says, as if he lost all thoughts of his previous moments in the future. As a young child he didn’t know what death was, he was sheltered inside and taken care of by his late elder brother, who died after getting tuberculosis. When he first showed signs he was locked in his room until he passed, as if he were to get sick he would die as well. 

When he was younger, his immune system was even weaker than it was at 23. George remembers his brother’s funeral, watching his body be properly buried and covered in the graveyard a few miles from the kingdom. It was sad, having to watch who once was his biggest inspiration become just another body in the village.

His parents worked for the king and queen, which is why they were able to get a proper burial for her.

But they weren’t as well liked, George understands that.

“You’re being sent to another kingdom across the ocean, there they will deal with you. The death rates have gotten too high in the kingdom and it makes us look bad,” he laughs, “All children that go where you’re going become just another dead child, but this time it won’t be in our village.”

George feels the same fear he felt as a child, the thought of being sent to another place to die was terrifying, if not cruel and unjust to the children who lost their families.

The guard grabs him and throws him into the carriage, making him sit on his knees on the floor with his head down. 

He tried his best to forget his past, but it seems as though whatever had happened in the woods was to make him relive it all. 

The cages, they were to keep the children in.

He was forcibly grabbed from the carriage and no matter how much he fought back, he still threw it into it, hitting his head and knocking him out cold.

The next time he awoke was on the sea, a crewmate of the ship was watching them, and all of the other kids seemed to be asleep. But when the crewmate saw he was awake, he walked over to him and squatted down.

“How old are you, kid?” he questioned, “You seem to be the youngest one here.”

“I’m nine,” George said, “Why are you doing this?”

“We have to, it’s the king's orders to get rid of any orphans that aren’t seen fit enough to work as knights for the palace,” he sighs, “I don’t like it as much as the next guy. But you, what’s your name?”

“George Davidson,” he says, “My parents worked for the king and queen.”

“Oh, you're Davidson's kid?” he gasped, “I’m so sorry about your parents. What they did to them is so terrible.”

_ What they did to them?  _ All he knew was they died at war, was it different than he remembered?

“They did?”

“The king and queen executed them,” he said, “You didn’t know?”

“N-No?” George feels tears in his eyes, he hadn’t known that they were executed, he feels sick, “Why-“

“They were supposedly passing on a child that wouldn’t do well or benefit them, which I’m now considering is you. Because you were sick and weak, so the king and queen executed them to get rid of any baggage,” he explains, “You’re a kid. You probably don’t understand half of the things I’m saying.”

_ I understand everything.  _

George goes quiet.

It’s all too blinding.

Days later, they anchor and all of the children are boarded off the ship. He’s dirty from doing ship work, and his entire body aches. The nice crewmate comes with.

When their boat reaches land, he grabs George’s hand. Now this he remembered, being grabbed by someone and being rushed off.

“Run kid, run until you can’t anymore, just beyond these woods is a wonderful kingdom that will be a kingdom that will take care of you,” he says, “But warn them. Warn them that in years time, when you will no longer be a boy but a man, they’ve been taking notes and that your kingdom is going to be targeted, okay?”

George freezes,  _ a war. That no one is expecting.  _ He nods quickly, and he sprints away. He sees the man rush back to the shore and takes off into the woods.

But he makes the same mistake, he collapses down the hill and rolls into a pit. His body aches, and he looks to the sky. Clay will be here soon.

Nick will find him. 

It’ll be okay, he will make it. 

He hears their laughter, and then the familiar sounds of twigs snapping.

“Is that a body!” Nick exclaims, “Holy shit! Is it dead?”

He hears Clay smack Nick's head, “No you idiot. They’re still breathing!”

“Hey, you okay?” Clay says, “I’m Clay! My mom knows how to work wonders!”

His vision goes white once more.

Then he’s awoken in the white abyss again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed :]] It was fun to write and there will be more in the future so please leave feedback!!! It’s motivational :’)
> 
> Bye bye for now!


End file.
